


A hole in the fabric of space and time

by opposablethumbs



Series: The fabric of time and space [3]
Category: Doctor Strange - All Media Types, Iron Man - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel 616, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Cloak POV, Cloak of Levitation (Marvel), Crack Treated Seriously, IronStrange, M/M, pet tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-18 22:22:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11300040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/opposablethumbs/pseuds/opposablethumbs
Summary: “Whuu?” Stephen relied. “Tony, what is it?”“Your cape is cuddling us.”“It’s a cloak,” Stephen said, in a mantra-like tone. Then he swallowed and wet his lips. “Tony, my cloak is cuddling us.”





	A hole in the fabric of space and time

**Author's Note:**

> So here it is, the long-promised third instalment of Cloak fic. Beta'd by the ever-glowing, ever-floating, ever-hailing [nursedarry](http://archiveofourown.org/users/NurseDarry/pseuds/NurseDarry).
> 
> There's bonus art by me at the end, rated the same or lower than the story itself.

Stephen grimaced as something squelched beneath his boot. “Tell me again why we’re trekking into Latveria on foot?” he asked. He stopped to scrape whatever the something was on a rock.

Tony came to a halt beside us. “What, and start in media res?”

The Sorcerer Supreme blinked. “Excuse me?” he said.

Tony took a moment to stretch and take a lungful of air before answering. “I have no idea,” he said. “It’s something this crackpot that Steve keeps around says. Wade Wilson, know him?”

Stephen shook his head.

“Try and keep it that way,” Tony replied. “Seriously, I have no idea what Steve sees in him.”

I felt Stephen’s breath catch ever so slightly. I decided he must be cold, and pulled myself closer around him.

“Oh, so the two of them..?”

“What?” Tony asked, cottoning on even as he said it. “Oh hell, no. Wade is… aesthetically challenged. And aromatically challenged. And… well, challenged in general. But Steve swears he’s a good guy for all that.” He shrugged. “I stopped trying to second-guess Steve a long time ago.”

This time, Stephen pulled me tighter around him as he sniffed. I curled myself closed over his chest. “We should get moving,” he said.

A brief frown twitched Tony’s brow. “Yeah, sure,” he agreed. “We can get to the other side of this valley before it gets dark.”

Stephen started walking again, setting a determined pace. “You know we could have been to Doom’s castle a day and a half ago if you’d let me portal us in.”

“I don’t do portals,” Tony replied, trailing after him. “It’s a thing.”

I sensed from his tone that he didn’t want to elaborate.

Stephen huffed. “Even one of your archaic Quinjets would have been more convenient than hiking cross-country from the Estonian border.”

Tony skipped a few steps to draw level with Stephen. He reached out and I parted just enough to allow him to snag Stephen’s hand and curl their fingers together. Stephen’s pace slowed over the next few steps until he and Tony were walking side by side.

“We couldn’t use my jets for the same reason we can’t use your spells. Victor is a master of both technology _and_ magic. If we use either anywhere inside Latveria, he’ll know. If we want to get the drop on him, this is how we have to do it.”

Stephen sighed. “You know, this idea sounded more appealing when you proposed it.”

“Possibly because we were both naked and fairly relaxed?” Tony supplied, apparently forgetting the two of them weren’t alone.

Stephen’s fingers tightened around Tony’s and he swung his arm to a little bit. “I could have been more relaxed,” he said.

Tony grinned; an infectious smile that lifted my cold and damp stitches. “Patience, Doctor Sweetheart,” he replied. “All good things.”

****

Having spent some time now in the company of both Stephen and Tony, I had come to a conclusion: they were both idiots. That is to say, they are incredibly smart in their own fields, but take them away from that and they fumble about like sheep waiting to be sheared.

Watching them put up a tent was one such example. Yesterday’s attempt had been feeble, and not without some quite inelegant swearing on both sides. Tonight’s effort was perhaps even more embarrassing for the fact that it wasn’t the first time they’d done it. Either way, the evening was well and truly in on us before we had shelter and a way to heat the supplies Tony and Stephen had brought with them.

After the two men had eaten, Stephen excused himself to go do something in the bushes that didn’t require my assistance. I made myself useful by draping over Tony’s crossed legs. It was still a little awkward, the two of us alone, but I was growing more accustomed to the way he would fiddle with my seams to hide his nervousness. This time, he was examining where his tailor had restored me from the battle with the beyonderling. I hadn’t been convinced at the start by the Italian man’s choice to add a zipper to my previously smooth weft, but I was growing to like it now. Both Tony and Stephen bore their scars without shame, and that gave me the courage to do the same.

As Tony plucked carefully at the finely-darned stitches surrounding the fixed fabric, a twig snapped behind us. Tensing, his fingers curled into me reflexively. Another crack, and I turned my attention into the bushes. It was, as I’d thought, only Stephen returning from his ablutions. His energies stood out bright in the darkness. Tony, however, without the skill to open his inner eye, had to wait until Stephen reappeared for his apprehension to be resolved. Releasing my hem from his grip, he smiled up at our mutual companion.

“Better?” he asked.

Stephen made a noncommittal noise. “I’ll be better when there’s an actual lavatory.” He got down on the ground a little to Tony’s side. I floated over to him and wrapped myself around his shoulders.

“I swear,” he grumbled, “I have half the stones in this damnable country in my boots.” Tugging off the offending articles, he tipped the right shoe out and it did indeed contain an impressive amount of debris.

In the firelight, I saw Tony roll his eyes. “Come here,” he said.

Stephen’s brow twitched and he didn’t move, so Tony sighed and reached out for him, tugging Stephen’s stockinged feet into his lap.

Despite his initial hesitation, it seemed as though Tony’s fingers were as delicate yet thorough with Stephen as I had seen from his treatment of my repair. After a few minutes, Stephen had gone from grumbling to tipping his head back and issuing little whimpery noises of what I interpreted as pleasure into the night.

While both Stephen and Tony had expressed reservations about this country of Latveria, I actually thought it had a certain charm. Unlike New York, there was plenty of open space and clean air, and now, with the setting of the sun, its sky was pierced by silver strands of stars and a big button moon that shone down on the three of us. The light of it, brighter than the fire we were gathered around, caught Stephen’s upturned profile. When I first ravelled myself up in Stephen’s affairs, I confess I found him attractive. But it was his power and potential I was drawn to, along with the goodness I sensed in his spirit. When you’re over a thousand years old, little things like physical morphology aren’t terribly important. Still, I had to admit that as the moonlight caressed the curves of his cheeks and chin, he was a handsome human.

I wasn’t alone in my staring. Glancing over to Tony I saw his whole attention was turned on Stephen’s face. His expression was curious, as though presented with a puzzle, but gentle for that; eyes crinkling around the edges with the small smile that played across his lips.

Looking beyond the world as most people saw it, I examined Tony’s energies. They were bright against the indigo sky, the red and gold tangling as they extended from his body. They were nothing like that muddy mixture from the first time we met, or even how I first noticed his aura stretching out to my Stephen. I had thought at the time, slightly embarrassingly, that Tony was feeding on Stephen’s abundant energy. A spirit vampire, if you will. But, over the last few days, I had come to a realisation: Tony reached for others not in order to take, but to give. It was oddly incongruous with the cocky and confident image he projected. That said, I saw parallels in it with Stephen. A strange pair, indeed.

At last, it seemed like the silence took its toll on Tony, as he cleared his throat.

“Ready for bed?” he said.

Stephen turned away from the universe to smile at Tony. “Sure,” he said softly.

I knew it wasn’t particularly late, especially not by Stephen’s standards. Many a time since our acquaintance had begun, I’d been forced to cajole him to his suite in the small hours. Tony didn’t seem to be having similar difficulties convincing him, however.

The tent wasn’t overly small, but compact enough to carry; high sided, more like the huts used by the Shamans of the Secret Doors. Stephen had to stoop to get inside but no more. Tony, following behind, barely had to do that. Once the flap was sealed, the air grew instantly warmer. Yesterday, Tony had explained that the cover was pleothermic, reacting to suit the conditions around it. I had briefly considered whether he had, in his inspired ignorance, managed to create a fellow sentient fabric. But after thinking ‘hello’ at the tent in as many languages as I knew, I concluded it was either without consciousness or terribly rude. Either way, I wasn’t going to waste any more time over it.

I hovered near the entrance to the tent while the two men readied themselves to settle in for the night. Sensibly, I thought, they had chosen to share a single makeshift bed. Without wishing myself out of a job, I had to concede that two firm, pliant bodies, wrapping together in sleep, could do more for each other regarding staying warm than fabric alone.

Stephen was already under the covers, wriggling himself comfortable. As Tony slipped in beside him, I caught sight of the scarlet scars that knitted together over his heart. He had explained that the marks came from a time when he had a jury-rigged Seal of Armaan in his chest cavity, but little more than that. Snuggling into Stephen’s side, he looped an arm around Stephen’s narrow middle, his arm blocking the mangled flesh from view. It seemed as though this was Tony’s preferred sleeping position. I wondered if he didn’t have a little cloak in him, for how he liked to drape over his bedfellow.

Stephen sighed, Tony’s head rising and falling with his breath. “I have no idea why people think this is fun,” he said.

“Oh, thank you,” Tony said flatly, but softened it by pressing a quick kiss to Stephen’s collar.

“I wasn’t meaning specifically _this_ ,” Stephen said, rolling his eyes. “Camping in general.”

Tony wrinkled his nose. “I guess there’s a kind of primitive charm to it. Steve was always very…”

Stephen stiffened in a way that was evident to both Tony and me. A long, heavy pause descended over the tent.

At last, Tony stirred. “Are we going to talk about this?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Stephen,” Tony said gravely, “We have seven doctorates between us. I don’t think playing dumb works for either of us.”

Stephen huffed. “Fine. Yes. Okay. You and _Captain America_.”

“Me and Steve Rogers,” Tony corrected.

“I’m just having a hard time wrapping my head around it. He’s so…”

“Patriotic?” suggested Tony.

“I was going to say ‘muscley’.”

Tony lifted his head up from Stephen’s chest to look him straight in the eye. “Knowing me as by now I would hope you do,” he said, “do you really think I was with him just for his body?”

I found myself, strangely enough, siding with Tony in that. I hadn’t spent as much time around him as Stephen had, but even with that limited exposure, I sensed that he wasn’t nearly as superficial as the Internet had led me to believe.

Stephen, however, was not so easily swayed. He sat up, shaking Tony off in the process. “So you’re saying sex had nothing to do with it,” he said.

Tony sat up as well, the covers falling away and exposing the expanse of his marred chest. “Oh, it had plenty to do with it,” he replied, with a wicked grin. “He’s... fantastic. And filthy; don’t let the choirboy looks fool ya.”

I could feel the static crackle of anger between them, and I backed off carefully, huddling into a corner.

“Well, he sounds _delightful_ ” sneered Stephen. “I can’t _imagine_ why you gave that one up.”

Tony started to say something, caught himself and took a deep breath. He let it out slowly. “Steve and I called it quits because, sure, we worked in the bedroom and on the battlefield. It was everywhere else that was the problem. Relationships rely on more than just...”

Tony stopped abruptly and even in the dim light I could see a clambering blush in his cheeks.

Apparently, so could Stephen. “What’s wrong?” he said, his frown more puzzlement than anything else.

“It’s…” Tony hesitated, “...a bit early for us to have this chat, don’t you think?”

“Because you and I haven’t..?”

“Haven’t _what_?”

I was glad Tony asked it, because it certainly wasn’t my place to even if I could.

Stephen closed his eyes, brows raised in an appeal to the Omnipotent Oshtur. “Sex, Tony. I thought that was pretty clear.”

“I thought it was pretty clear we _would_ have had sex by now if things hadn't gone all Fisherman’s Wife back at the tower.”

Somewhat inexplicably, Tony gestured at me as he said it.

“Fisherman’s… you know what? Never mind. Because I don’t believe you. I think we would’ve fooled about and then you’d’ve found some excuse to back off. And it’s because of him.”

“You’re right,” Tony replied. He was calm, perhaps a little too much so; his voice so quiet I had to stretch to hear it. “I fell for Steve pretty hard right from the start. And he… he’d just came out of the ice and was lonely. He’d lost everyone, he thought.”

“He hadn’t?”

Tony shook his head slightly. “In the end, Steve and I wanted different things. He broke it off because I wanted more than he could give, and he needed me to be someone else. I guess...” He sighed and I saw his fists bunch and then relax. “I just didn’t want the same thing to happen here. I wanted to make sure this was something we _both_ wanted, equally.”

I was surprised, both by the candour of Tony’s words and what they implied. In the thin light of the tent’s solar lamp, I saw Stephen’s eyes glimmer and flash.

“Tony…” he said softly, reaching out for the other man. He cradled Tony’s cheeks in his damaged fingers and lifted his sunken chin. “I want this. I want _you._.”

And then they were kissing, half in and out of the covers. It felt like the temperature in the tent went up several degrees in a matter of seconds as they first tangled together and then fell back against the inflatable matt on the floor. Stephen tugged Tony up onto him and then snagged him back for yet more kissing. I took the damp noises of mouths and skin slipping over each other as my cue to leave, squeezing out of the barest gap in the tent so as not to disturb them. I needn’t have bothered, however: they’d forgotten everything but each other.

****

Outside the tent, the night had drawn fully in. The moon had risen, fading the stars into a velvet fuzziness. My shadow was long and sharp, however, as I left the campsite and set off up the slope that climbed out of the valley. I could hear the snuffling of small animals in the bushes, but I had noticed that there were no larger mammals living wild on the land. A curiosity, certainly. I mulled the concept over as I reached the top of the hill. Stretching out before me was the Vale of Latveria, at the centre of which - some seven or eight miles away - was a towering Gothic castle. I half-expected lightening to strike the peak of its tallest tower for emphasis, but instead the moon simply shone down on the turrets and town beneath.

From the way Stephen and Tony had been talking about this country, I was expecting something far grander than what I saw. The castle was impressive, certainly, but the rest of the Latverian capital was strangely unsophisticated. I mainly saw modest homesteads and meagre farms growing scraggly crops in the stony soil.

Just then, a strange sound caught my attention; a scrabbling of metal on rock. I folded in on myself to do a quick 180, and was just in time to see a disturbingly large spider-shaped _something_ glitter in the moonlight before scuttling into the shadows. I moved towards it, as fast as I could fly, but it was gone. Even checking for an aura didn’t help, it was as though the creature had simply _vanished_ from both this world and the spirit realm.

I felt the threads of my hem pull taut, a sense coming over me as though I was being watched. With a chill wind fluttering my fabric, I hurried back down the slope and back into camp. It was at least an hour since I had left and there were no sounds coming from inside the tent. I gave one last glance back up the side of the valley but could neither see nor sense anything following me. Unfortunately, I didn’t find that entirely reassuring.

I crept back into the tent, using a curl of my collar to tug the zipper firmly closed behind me. The sound of soft snores filled the heavy air, and I found Stephen and Tony asleep together, blankets thrown off from the waist. Clearly, whatever tensions had been between them had been resolved, as Stephen curled around Tony, and Tony’s hands clasping Stephen’s fingers as though they were sanctified. They were both so peaceful, Stephen at rest in a way I had never seen before. And Tony, who was constantly moving and fiddling, was still; the faintest smile on his parted lips. They were quite beautiful like this, and I wavered for a moment, not sure if I should intrude. But the thought of going back outside only reminded me of that unnatural spider and the uncanny sense of being observed. With that in mind, I floated silently over to where the two men lay, and lowered myself gently onto them as an extra layer of warmth. Their proximity calmed me as well, and I found myself slowly lulled by their even breaths until my consciousness slipped into a deep reverie.

****

I woke up to a muffled groan coming from Tony.

“Eugh,” he said, his eyes fluttering open. “Next time we do that, it’s going to be in a bed.”

At first, I thought he was talking to me and then, as his eyes focussed, he spoke again.

“Stephen,” he said, his voice a little tight. He leaned back into Stephen’s embrace. “Stephen!”

“Whuu?” Stephen relied. “Tony, what is it?”

“Your cape is cuddling us.”

“It’s a cloak,” Stephen said, in a mantra-like tone. Then he swallowed and wet his lips. “Tony, my cloak is cuddling us.”

“Please, _please_ don’t tell me this counts as a threesome,” said Tony, lifting up the nearest of my corners and peeking beneath. “Oh thank god, it’s on top of the blankets.”

****

For two humans who claimed to be in a hurry to ‘get the job done and get out of this shithole of a country’, they took their time razing camp that morning. Hygiene rituals, breakfasting, and clearing away the tent, were all interspersed with far more gratuitous kissing than ever before. Had I not already been red, I’m sure I would have turned decidedly claret. I tried to keep my attention elsewhere, but I was hesitant to let my gaze wander too far from the camp. The not-a-spider from last night had haunted my astral wanderings; it’s bulbous , glowing eyes following me through my dreams. I wished there was a way I could explain to Stephen what I had seen, or thought I had seen. My continued unease told me it was something he should know. But, even if I had the ability to do so, I was loath to break his good mood over something that could be nothing.

It was between these musings, and my study of a particularly interesting metamorphic rock on the edge of camp, that Tony managed to sneak up on me.

“Oh, woah,” he said as I surged skyward, holding out his hands like I was a spooked animal.

I floated back down to his face level. Tony’s expression was one of vague embarrassment. He rubbed at the back of his neck.

“I… uh…”

It was clear he was addressing me, and that was unexpected.

“FRIDAY tells me you’re sentient, and I trust FRIDAY,” he said. “So… I just wanted to thank you for last night. Leaving the tent, I mean.”

He took a deep breath and let it out in a huff. “You… you’re a cloak. I don’t know how much you know about what… humans do. But I… _we_ appreciated you giving us some time to… ah… work things through.”

He called me a cloak.

I floated over to him, slowly so as not to startle him. Once I was within reach and he hadn’t moved away, I extended myself around him; not as a cloak, but covering his front and looping my buckles around his back in the way I had seen humans touch one another in friendship.

Tony’s back went rigid for a second, before he seemed to cotton on. “Oh!” he said. “Okay. Hugs. Yep, we can do that.” He stretched his arms around me, perhaps slightly awkwardly with my lack of volume, but without any particular reserve. After a few seconds we let go of each other and I slipped myself around his shoulders. He chuckled and walked back to where Stephen was stowing the last of their gear.

Turning, he looked us both up and down. “Do I need to be jealous?” he said.

Not wanting him to feel left out, I detached myself from Tony’s shoulders and draped myself over Stephen’s.

“It looks better on you,” Tony replied.

A small but fond smile touched Stephen’s lips. “I don’t know,” he said. “I thought you looked pretty fetching in it, _Doctor_ Stark. Maybe we could set up a partnership.”

Tony had come a step closer? “Oh yeah?” he said. “In what?”

Stephen gave the matter careful thought. “Awesome facial hair?” he suggested.

At that, Tony laughed and tipped up on his toes to kiss Stephen softly on the lips. I took the opportunity to stretch myself around the two of them, folding them into an embrace.

“Aw, a cloak made for two,” Tony said, pulling back from the kiss.

Stephen hummed. “I'm so glad we have its blessing.”

****

After a slow start, we made good time up and out of the valley, crossing the half dozen miles without much further ado, or creepy spider-things. The villagers we came across took no notice of us their eyes fixed on their chores. No one stopped us, or questioned where we were going. When Tony attempted to get one man to talk, the only answer we received was “Lord Doom knows”, spoken with the same fear and reverence as one might ascribe a deity.

“I can’t believe Victor lets his population live like this,” Stephen hissed as we walked away.

Tony shrugged, but there was a frown on his face. “Doom makes it clear that this is his country, to do with as he pleases.”

“That’s not the man I knew,” Stephen growled. “Even at his worst, he still wanted to help others.”

“People change,” Tony said.

“Every one of these people could live like a king,” Stephen pressed, voice rising now we were out of earshot of the townspeople. “Victor could have irrigation systems, automated farms, clean energy…”

“He doesn’t want that,” Tony replied. “He wants people to worship him. To _love_ him in their misery.”

“In his misery,” Stephen replied.

Tony shrugged once more. “Probably,” he said. “You don’t find many psychologically balanced super-villains out there.”

He stopped in his tracks, looking up and up and up…

We were at the foot of the tower.

“Well,” he remarked. “Someone’s compensating.”

“Tony, you live in a skyscraper.”

Tony cleared his throat. “Granted…” he said.

Stephen was still considering the smooth cut black lava stone walls rising sheer in front of us. “How do you suppose we get in?” he asked. “I suppose my cloak could take us up and over one at a time…”

“Would you mind?” Tony asked, addressing me.

“Tony,” Stephen chided, “you don’t have to ask permission.”

A little put out by Stephen’s flippant tone, I removed myself from his shoulders and settled on Tony’s instead.

“Oh, I think you upset it,” he called as I began lifting him up onto the buttress.

****

Once inside the castle walls, it wasn’t hard to infiltrate the castle proper. There were surprisingly few guards, but perhaps Count von Doom didn’t think he needed any. After all, who would imagine an engineer of Tony’s standing and a sorcerer as powerful as Stephen would tromp cross-country in order to launch a surprise attack. I had to confess, I still wasn’t sure what we were attacking him _with_ , but i had faith in my humans that they had to have at least part of a plan.

“Down here,” Tony hissed, gesturing at a long hall lined with statues. “The main hall is this way.”

“You think that’s where he’ll be?” whispered Stephen in return.

Tony snorted quietly. “It’s either that or the bathroom, and I know which throne I’d rather…” He stopped holding up one hand. Stephen paused, head cocked.

A faint echoing of organ music floated up the hall to us.

“He’s in there,” Tony said.

The three of us crept down the hall towards the great wooden doors at the far end. I could sense both Stephen and Tony were nervous and noticed how their fingers brushed as they huddled together. At last we were at the doors.

“What do we do now?” Stephen said.

“Knock?” suggested Tony.

Without warning or any visible mechanism, the doors suddenly flung open.

“That will not be necessary.” The booming words came from a cowled figure sitting in front of an imposing pipe organ. “Gentlemen, welcome to Castle Doom.”

And then the lightning struck.

****

“Well,” Tony said after a few moments pause. “That was unnecessarily dramatic.” He emphasised the sneer in his voice by swaggering into the great hall. He crossed straight to the drinks cabinet and poured himself a neat shot of whiskey. “Anyone else?” he said.

The man I could only presume was Victor von Doom snorted. “You will not charm yourself out of this one, Stark. You are both at my mercy.”

Tony handed Stephen a cut crystal tumbler of something blue. “Wow, I can see why you dumped him,” he said.

“Nobody dumps Doom!” came the vocal protest from our ‘host’.

“Not the time…” Stephen groaned.

“What, we get to talk about my exes, but not yours?” Tony replied, with a sweet smile.

Doom got to his feet, sputtering. I could see that under his cowl and cape (because his was definitely a cape) that he was wearing a mask and a metal suit that shrouded his energies from me.

“You dare!” he bellowed, his voice ringing off the bare stones. “You invade _my_ country. You defile _its_ soil with your…”

“Choose your next words _very_ carefully,” Tony warned.

“...presence...”

“Good boy,” said Tony.

“And why?” Doom demanded. “For what purpose?”

Stephen stepped forward. “Well, to thank you of course,” he said smoothly. “Your little gift really helped bring Tony and I together.”

“My… little…”

“Sure,” Tony added, moving in close beside Stephen. “The vase that activated if magic and technology came into close proximity near it.”

“Opening a portal to the Dark Realm and allowing a beyonderling passage into our world.”

“I’d been meaning to redecorate,” Tony observed.

“And nothing like a good battle to get the blood flowing…” Stephen added.

“Yes, we both enjoyed that…”

“Enough!” Doom screeched over them, waving his arms animatedly. “I neither want nor need your thanks.”

“Aw, and we got you a gift and everything…” Tony said.

As though that was his cue, Stephen tugged me from his shoulders and walked forward, holding me out.

Doom’s eyes went wide behind his mask. “You’re _giving_ me the Cloak of Levitation?” he gasped.

I quirked up to look at Stephen and over his shoulder to Tony. With Doom’s full attention on Stephen, Tony gave me a clandestine wink.

“Not quite,” Stephen said. We were only a few paces from Doom at this point. “More the Cloak of Levitation has something to give you.”

With that, Stephen pulled down the zipper I had been mended with.

A great whooshing filled the room, and I realised belatedly that it was coming from me.

“What is this?” demanded Doom.

The tear I had suffered in order to capture the beyonderling began to swell, and from within it snaked a long, indigo tentacle. Mist billowed out of me, along with more and more of the creature. It wasn’t painful, but it certainly isn’t every day that you regurgitate a tentacle monster. Finally, it was all free of me and Stephen closed my zipper and began to back off. Doom was firing energy, both mystical and earthly at the creature, but all it appeared to be doing was enticing the beyonderling closer. As it closed in around Doom, he let out a blood-curdling howl.

“I think we should be going now,” Tony said to Stephen.

“I agree,” Stephen said to Tony.

Just then the howling was cut short and replaced by… laughter. And not the maniacal laughter Doom had spouted earlier, but the honest, earnest laughter of joy. Stephen and Tony froze in place.

“Who’s a good… thing? Is it you? Is it you?”

The mist began to clear, and as it did we could see Doom stooped over the writhing beyonderling. It thrashed about as Doom ticked it’s bulbous belly, tentacles flailing in pleasure at the attention.

Doom looked up to where Stephen and Tony were standing, gaping at him.

“I… I can’t thank you enough,” he said. He made to stand up and the beyonderling curled four of its long, suckered arms about him and clung to him as he did. “This is a gift beyond measure.”

“Um… don’t mention it, doc,” Tony said nervously.

“Yeah… we’re glad to… uh…” Stephen’s sentence tailed off as the beyonderling, having adopted a size comparable to a tentacled Alsatian, began to coo and purr contentedly, attached to Doom’s side.

“No, I must,” the ruler said with gusto. “At least allow me to arrange passage for you both back to New York on my private jet.”

“I could just portal us…” Stephen suggested.

“No portals,” Tony reminded.

“Then it’s settled,” Doom said, and despite his armour I could sense the pleasure rolling off him in waves. “But first, you will be our guests for a feast. Won’t they, snookums?” he added, tickling the vile beast under what could have been its chin.

****

“Well,” Tony said after the ‘fasten seatbelts’ light had finally extinguished. “That went… unexpectedly.”

We were on our way back to New York, good to Doom’s word. He had even promised to improve the living conditions for his populace at Stephen’s request.

“It’s certainly not how I saw it going,” Stephen agreed. “But I’m glad. This is better.” He looped his arm about Tony’s shoulder and pulled him closer.

Tony sank into Stephen’s side with a sigh. Once he was comfy he picked up one of my corners and pulled it over his knee.

“And I’m sorry we didn’t tell you the plan,” Tony said, stroking over my embroidery with his delicate fingers. “That wasn’t fair of us.”

“Tony, it’s a…”

“If you say cloak, I will get up and go and sit with the pilot,” my new friend said crossly. “None of this would’ve been possible without it. It deserves our thanks.”

Stephen huffed grumpily. “Fine,” he said.

Tony turned his head to look at Stephen, a single eyebrow raised.

“Fine. Thank you,” Stephen said.

Tony tilted up and pressed a kiss to his cheek. I lifted my collar and pressed one edge to his other high cheekbone.

“Oh by the gods, what is my life?” Stephen pleaded.

But he was smiling.

 

**Now for the art!**

 

********

 

_**We all have scars** _

 

_**Snookums the Beyonderling** _

 

**Author's Note:**

> For more art, fic and rambling tags, why not come visit my [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/opposablethumbs-on-ao3)?


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